One Moment
by Mystic25
Summary: This is a tie in to my “Choices” series. Won’t make sense unless you’ve read Choices. Detailing the first night Zack and Asha spent together that made them fall for each other.


One Moment

Mystic25

Summary: This is a tie-in to my "Choices" series. Takes place after (Won't make sense unless you've read Choices). Detailing the first night of Zack and Asha that made them fall for each other. Told from Zack and Asha's viewpoints.

Rating: PG for Zack's language.

Disclaimer: If I owned any of them would I be doing this, I think not.

A/N: This is by no means a "romantic" story (this is Zack we're taking about after all). But I regretted never writing a piece on the first "date" if you will of Asha and Zack. And I've never done something from Zack's viewpoint, _ever_ so this oughta be interesting, I mean, the boy's interesting enough from an outsider's view

XXXXXXXXXX

8:30 PM

ZACK

I don't know why the hell this idiot thinks he can just _stand_ in the middle of the road. If he wasn't so drunk – that huge mug of beer in his hand is testament to that fact – I'd plow him off the asphalt with my bike. But he's totally smashed and won't remember anything lucidly; and I'm not about to have some punk suspect I was some hooker that came onto him.

I never liked Seattle. It's crowded as hell, giving people the notion that they can invade privacy at the drop of a hat. I've been stuck in the same damn spot for the past fifteen minutes watching some Sector Cop try to feel up this teenage girl with breasts bigger then his own head. The girl isn't being "disgraced" or anything, she's doing her part, but I don't have time for this shit.

The pimping cop glares at me when I drive past him on my bike, but the great thing about being Manticore is that I'm gone before this loser has time to go limp. The permanent smell of piss and sex fluid always seems to linger in the air of this city, and it gets much stronger when I pull up to a pathetically lit alleyway behind a drinker's dive.

The place is called "Crash" and the name fits it so well. It's crumbling in places, dark and dirty in others. It looks like the remains of a fall out shelter that later housed hookers wanting to "console" the survivors.

There are a few others wandering in besides me. Kids, 16, 17, probably hoping it'll be dark enough inside so that they can find someone who will drop their balls manually. The interior is alive with the noise of a million drunks and women and pool balls being struck by cues.

Some of these said women are taking the opportunity to rub up all over me, a few of them aren't even older then those dinks that came to play them. Not that I don't find a curvy agile body attractive, but a pubescent slut doesn't send a soldier clamoring for a room.

The girls don't follow me after I gave them the cold shoulder, but at the prices they sell themselves for they'll find work. This place is a dive in every sense of the word, right down to the bar that is hidden under years of graffiti. The bartender and I exchange glances, he doesn't even speak to me when I order a draft, but it's not like I wanted to talk to him anyway.

There's a man at the end of the bar, keeping his eyes on the bottom of his glass of gin. Isn't that some Pre-Pulse song: "Piano Man" or some shit? Lydecker never taught us any music outside of those selections that stimulated us to kill and maim people. We should've just maimed him during one of those sessions to show him exactly how much we paid attention.

The drink is watered down, but I'm used to the taste. I had my first drink at fifteen in a run down bar in Chicago. And like this one it was warm and insipid. But unlike then I didn't complain to the bartender about it and break his nose after he didn't take me seriously. I learned that it's too much of a hassle to beat someone down that can't even change anything.

"You're late."

Remarks like that are generally reserved for someone who makes it a big thing to meet with other people. And I'm not one of them. I have no idea how the hell I found myself in this situation. But the voice belonged to someone female, a non-teenage, non-whore, a woman to be exact. And she was talking to me.

XXXXXXXX

ASHA

I didn't even expect him to show up at all, so my remark is actually a little off. Unlike my previous situations with guys, this one didn't turn around to look at me when I talked to him.

He wasn't drinking, or had his attention tuned elsewhere; he was just ignoring me.

I can't believe I came here to meet someone who won't even acknowledge me. This would be the moment that I could just leave because there are a ton of assholes out there that fit this same profile.

"Are you always this much fun?" I'm not leaving; I've played that 'turn around and leave' game way too many times. This actually makes him turn in my direction and I remember the first reason I wanted to come here in the first place; lust. I had moved back to Seattle two weeks ago and wanted to see Logan Cale, my old lover. But it turned out my old lover is now married, married with kids I might add. So that option was out. But then another option presented itself - Logan's wife's brother, Zack. I admit it; I was superficial the first moment I saw him. But hell, I don't care. Any woman in her right mind would be superficial over the way the man was stacked.

"I didn't drag you down here," he insists.

Yeah, Zack's a pretty boy all right, but he's also got sarcasm down to an art. This is only the second time I've been around him long enough to start a conversation; but each time he's never failed to offer a snappish wit. It can really be obnoxious, but I still don't want to leave. I'm reading him like a suspense thriller; stopping in the middle is out of the question.

"No you didn't, but since I came down here on my own free will how about you just shut up and get me a drink?" I'm still not going to let him get away with _all_ the cut downs.

I can tell that this remark doesn't sit well with him. Zack seems like the kind of guy who gives orders, not receives them.

"How about you just shut up and order it yourself?" he snaps.

Ouch, the remark stings like a slap in the face. But yet again – and I don't know the hell why – I remain, and order myself the same thing Zack has in front of him – a beer.

The bartender slides it over to me in a few seconds, a grin flashing behind his eyes. I think he can sense its going badly and wants to get "in" after the deal goes bad. I ignore him and pick up my glass. "It must be tiring to be such a gentleman Zack."

For some reason my remark crumbles a bit of Zack's wall. His eyes sweep over me, subtly enough, but I can tell when I being checked out.

XXXXXXXX

ZACK

Gentleman? What's she trying to pull? Being a gentleman only works if you're in the presence of a lady. And she's no lady. But it's not like I'm faulting her on that. I'm not attracted to ladies; I'm attracted to women. And I have to admit she's not a bad looking woman. Manticore only taught us about sexual attraction within the scope of clinical knowledge. I knew what sex and desire _was_, but it wasn't the same as experiencing it at sixteen with a girl seven years older then me who charged for her services. But I was never stupid about it, I never experienced intimacy before, but I sure as hell knew the difference between love and sexual lust. And the later always came first when you met up with someone.

"If you're looking for a gentleman, you're going to be here a while."

Asha Copland is scrutinizing my remark. I can tell; I multitask like it's a sport. And she's not very subtle about it either. She goes all-quiet like I won't notice the absence of conversation. But her observing me gives me complete freedom for me to observe her. She's average in height; about as tall as Max, maybe an inch over, but not as built as Max is in several areas. I'm not complaining on that though, I'm not trying to create a substitute for Maxie. Asha has looks that will keep me interested if that turns out that's all she has to offer.

"Gentleman are overrated anyway," She's still standing, leaning up against the bar. I can smell whatever knock off version of designer cologne she doused herself with. "If I wanted someone to escort me across the street and open doors for me I'll stick to my father." She drinks from her beer, watching me watching her through the bottom of the glass.

There's foam on her bottom lip and she licks it off slowly. If she's trying to use that as a seducing technique she's wasting her time.

"But with you Zack, I don't think I have anything to worry about." She sets her glass down in front of the bartender who is not even trying to pretend he doesn't want some from her. For her part she's ignoring him, giving me the simple knowledge that she's not easy. And it's actually something worth remembering.

My drink is still half full and I'm not into wanting to finish it anymore. Watered down beer may be a staple in this crap of a city, but that doesn't mean I have to chug it all down. I slide the beer in front of Asha. "Since you were so insistent that I get you a drink."

XXXXXXXX

ASHA

I pick up the glass that hits the edge of my denim jacket as it slides over my way. Zack is defiantly a hard guy to crack, but I'm starting to understand that his sarcasm is his way of hitting on me. I'm not thirsty anymore but I take a sip from the drink anyway. To me there's something arousing about putting my mouth on someplace that his has just recently been on.

I waited for a sarcastic remark from him, but he must have suspected I would be waiting for one because he didn't say anything. I set his glass back down in front of him. "Thanks for the drink."

I'm starting to discover how to talk to this man. He's not one of those lover boy types who treats women with suave delicacy, nor is he a domineering. He's a hard ass but he plays his mystique like a game and he expects me to be up to his level.

"Don't expect it to be a routine thing," Zack returns dryly, pushing the glass aside.

"Maybe I will," I can't help acting like a teenager for a moment. The man is sexy. That alone is attractive, but there's something else about him. He's not one of those "good guys" He seems like the brooding type, but maybe that's what I'm attracted to – he's real.

"Routines are an futile cycle to try and connect with something that should only have been done once." Zack states, monologing like a superhero villain in an old Pre-Pulse cartoon.

Did he memorize that from a book? I would've rolled my eyes if his line didn't sound more intelligent then the ones guys have used on me before. "I can think of one routine that might change your mind."

He didn't respond or give any indication that my words had any affect on him. Still I know they did.

XXXXXXXX

ZACK

Asha's less than elusive reference to sex isn't turning me on as much as she thinks. Not that it didn't have _any_ affect on me. Manticore didn't shoot me off or anything. It's just that the woman's trying too hard to snare my attention. And a snare trap never works because you can see it before you succumb to it. If this woman is going to try anything on me she needs to earn my respect without any tricks.

XXXXXXXX

ASHA

There are tons of other hook ups going on around us. Mostly drunk one-night stands that both parties will end up regretting in the morning, if they even remember what happened at all. Compared to these 'couples' we seem pretty tame, almost old fashion, in that we haven't started heading towards a car or a back alley.

But this isn't high school, the kind of setting where I gave a damn that hordes of people are throwing things down around me while I remained fully clothed. I'm a long way from being a virgin, but that doesn't mean I'm a slut. Not like that girl I see in the corner letting a guy feel her up under her halter-top. Though some part of me wonders what it would be like to have Zack's well-formed hands on my body like that, not here in front of God and everybody mind you; but the desire is defiantly there.

The girl is allowing herself to be laid out on the pool table by her male friend for the night. The sight of him all over her is disgustingly raunchy, but the pool table actually gives me an idea.

XXXXXXXX

ZACK

"C'mon, let's see if you play pool as well as you talk." She walks away from the bar and leaves me to follow her. Typical maneuver designed to create dominance over someone.

When I don't move Asha turns back to me, a look of determination on her face. "Let's go," her hands grab the collar of my jacket and pulls me out of my stool. I allow this to go on for three seconds before I extract her hand from my jacket.

She lowers her hand back down and looks at me. For once she doesn't offer a reply. I respect very few things in my life, but I respect that. Silence is a language in itself.

I linger a few steps behind her because I'm not about to follow her around like a lovesick kid. Besides from this viewpoint I notice that she has more curves then I realized before. People – mainly my siblings – would be surprised as hell at how much the opposite sex attracts me. I know to them I come across as more lone soldier oriented, but the desire for food is only one kind of hunger. Though watching and acting are two different things when it comes to women. And I can't allow myself to drop my guard until I know exactly what I'm up against.

The pool table she chooses is taken over by a pair of idiots deciding to enjoy themselves on top of it. People really need to quit thinking everyone wants to see their shit.

"Hey!" Asha pulled on the guy humping the girl. The sound of another female voice actually made the looser look up. She holds cash out in front of him. "Here's five, get a cheap room."

I'm close enough to the scene now to see the dolt stand up - his member tenting the crotch of his pants - and give Asha a once over and to hear his remark: "You want to join me there, baby?" His girl is laughing dryly through a bright red collagen enhanced mouth, still splayed out on the pool table.

What happened next threw me for a loop. I expected Asha Copland to scream at the guy, maybe even offer him more money to shut his mouth up.

"Sorry, but you're going to have enough problems dealing with that injury," She punched him right in his nuts, hard enough to make his erection go flaccid. He doubled over onto the floor while grabbing at himself.

"Here," Asha dangled a five in front of his girl's face. "Get him out of here, ice packs on me."

The chick bounced off the table and took the money and started cooing to her looser as she dragged his whimpering ass away.

"Table's free," Asha pierces me with another look while sliding out of her leather jacket. "What? You thought I couldn't get a guy down on his knees without a proposal?" She set the jacket aside on a chair.

"Did I say anything?" I retort.

"Then let's go," she picked up a pool cue and turned her attention towards the table.

XXXXXXXXX

ASHA

I was pretty on top of things after the incident with that looser guy. Zack actually seemed impressed at how I can handle myself. You have to have a way to protect yourself in this city. And I hate to gloat, but I was kicking his ass in pool.

I sunk four balls with one shot. "Logan was a pool shark, and a lot of it rubbed off."

Zack didn't respond but I see something of a glower come over his features. His sister was now married to my former boyfriend, but something told me that the two men weren't exactly best friends.

I lined up my next shot, a perfect even move to knock the eight ball in the center pocket. But in my line of sight I caught Zack laying aside his leather jacket. He wasn't wearing a leather vest or anything underneath – it was a blue long sleeved cotton shirt. But it was _much_ thinner then his jacket, and I finally noticed how built he was underneath. Either he works out a lot or he just got damn lucky in the genetics department. It's probably a combination of the two, judging by the way the rest of his siblings look. He was just standing there, and this whole new image of him distracted me so that I bumped the table with my cue and scratched the shot. I used to not have a big thing for blondes, even though I am one, but damn, I do now.

"Apparently Logan didn't teach you as well as you thought," Zack quipped, moving to the pool table. He sunk my shot as well as another.

"With as many sisters as you have I thought you'd be used to loosing to a girl," My quip was kind of lame, but it had already escaped my mouth.

"Too bad you'll never know," Zack lands his next shot. The ball is in his court now and the bastard knows it. Being on top of things seems like familiar stomping grounds for him. His streak continues for the rest of the game.

"Good thing I didn't make any bets," I laid my cue down on the table catching Zack watching me. His eyes – that were once a gray-blue – are now a muted brownish green. I know that this phenomenon is because his eyes are the kind that can appear different shades in various lighting; it's simply genetic encoding. But genetic encoding never looked this good before. Of course I'd be an idiot if I let on how much just his gaze is affecting me, an idiot or just plain desperate. I have to have _some_ form of poise. I'm not sixteen anymore; I'm an adult. But the thing difference about being an adult over being a teenager is what you can do without having to sneak around.

My thoughts sound so slutty to me now. I've only been with this guy for two hours, that's only enough time for one night stands to be set in motion. God, when was the last time I had sex? Eight, no nine months ago, with Neil. That relationship lasted all of two weeks. Neil's definition of a "relationship" was to be with as many women as he could, and as long as they didn't find out about each other everything was fine. The sex wasn't even that great. Still when you've gone without for almost a year without, _any_ sex starts looking good to you, even that watered down memory of an experience. But I never even thought on it that much, until tonight.

It's not like I just want some satisfaction with Zack. He's an enigma, someone that probably would only let me get that close to him if I managed to unravel him a bit.

That doesn't seemed destined to happen by the way things are going. There's definite chemistry, but it's not enough to erupt into anything, not now.

But I don't think it's over.

XXXXXXXX

ZACK

10:47 PM

People go back and forth in this city and never bother to check behind them unless they hear something that startles them. But if you're really good at following someone you're sure as hell aren't about to give yourself away with mundane little noises. There are a few pedestrians out here that I could tail for hours and they wouldn't even know it. We trained for weeks at Manticore to learn this skill, to move so quietly that even an ultra sensitive sound wave indicator couldn't detect a single frequency.

The buildings in this sector aren't pristine, but there better then most I've seen in the city, with the acceptation of the rich in Sector Nine. There are huge amounts of paint chipped of the sides of them, thin concrete stairs with no railings, where scattered people are getting drunk or high, or just talking.

Someone's pit bull barks as I pass the patch of grass he squats in. He snarls and lunges at me on a rusted chain. I've had enough of attack dogs at Manticore, always growling and spitting if we tried to cross their perimeter. I glare at the dog and this makes him bark louder because he senses the challenge.

A guy grabs the chain he's attached too and tugs it, choking the dog and shutting him up at the same time. He eyes me from his position. "You're a bit off course white boy," he let's the dog's chain go.

"Looks like your crappy GPS screwed you over again." I _have_ the skills he thinks his ghetto taught him. Saying that you can kick in somebody's balls and actually being able to do it are two entirely different things.

All he does is glare at me. He either respects me or hates me now, but like I care which one it is; I don't plan to make friends.

I was twenty-yards away before, but now I've closed the gap to only ten feet. The building she stopped at is no different then the dozens of others around it. She doesn't have a purse so she pulls out keys from a front pants pocket. The lock is a shitty as the door makes it look. I can hear her cursing, trying to loosen the rusted deadbolts.

"Drawing attention to your problem is a definite way to be taken advantage of."

I made her jump, but after she sees it's me she acts like it doesn't affect her.

"I didn't expect someone to be standing right behind me to point that out." She tries the lock again. "How did you know where I live?"

"This isn't some covert location."

She abandoned her key inside the door and turned back around to face me. "You followed me? If I'd a known that you were into stalking people I never would've come out with you."

"Do you actually believe all that crap you just said? Or is that just your method of foreplay?" If she thinks she's the only one who can play a game she's very much mistaken.

XXXXXXXXXX

ASHA

I thought I might see him again, _maybe_ tomorrow, most likely in a week, or a month. But not for him to stalk me to my door. But at the same time I can't help but be impressed because, no matter his methods, he had tracked me down for a reason.

"Believe me Zack, if I initiated any kind of foreplay, you'd know about it." I haven't flirted in so long, which made me realize that this was about more then just sex. The only flirtation sex needs _is_ foreplay. Having a conversation with a guy is reserved for someone you want to see outside of your bed.

Zack, it's a very fitting name for him. One of those one-syllable things that gives him enough sex appeal to attract women, but also imprints the serious hostility that makes up his personality. And this is the man that is staring at me, not only undressing my body, but also my humanity, wondering if both are worth his time. Right then I knew he wasn't like any other guy I've met because otherwise the sex would've started a long time ago.

He walks up to my door with the steady stride of someone who exudes complete control in himself. He's holding a rubber-handled hunter's knife – blade turned down – In his right hand, and thought that shocked me for a moment, I knew two things that kept me from being afraid. One was the Colt .45 that was strapped underneath my jacket, and the other was that Zack could've hurt me a long time ago; he wasn't going to do it now.

He doesn't say a word and slides the knife's blade next to the deadbolt, in-between the door and the frame. His pushes the knife in the crack and the deadbolt releases, the door going ajar with a high rusted squeak. The fact that he knows how to pick locks is one worth remembering.

"It pays in situations like this to have a master key."

Zack's no Knight in Shining armor, he's a whole lot hotter, and a whole lot more real. I've never been so glad to have someone open my door. His 'key' won't access everything though. But maybe he will.

If I could see my own eyes I bet they would be solid black. "Do you have any more skulking planned for tonight, or can you come up?" I've been thinking about saying this all night, and now I'm finally able to.

Zack didn't respond, still watching me, but he didn't say no.

XXXXXX

ZACK

I am someone that Manticore wants back badly enough there willing to kill for it, I can't allow that to happen, to me or any of the others. I've kept constant watch over my siblings, because some of them are willing to jeopardize themselves for a sense of normalcy, but I'm not.

I went up and then down with Asha, in a darkness that only I could see through but I didn't forget who I was lying next to her in the dark after it was done or the phony sentimentality can cloud your judgment so you loose sight of your objective, even though I gave into it tonight.

But even I have my moments of weakness.

XXXXXXXXX

End

Hopefully that portrayed the reasons behind Asha and Zack wanting to be together. I figured they would spend the night together the first time because Zack doesn't seem like the kind of guy who just trusts with words after one date, I can't picture him just walking her home if he planned to see her again.

I enjoyed writing this, because it's interesting to see where a relationship like this originated.

R/R please.

Mystic


End file.
